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Drake stared down into Heather’s trusting eyes, wanting to make this good for her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He was thrilled to have given her the first orgasm, but he was aching with need and didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.
Easing slightly back, his hands went to the falls of his breeches. “Are you sure you still want this?” he asked, praying she didn’t turn him away now. “I don’t want you to regret it.”
“Oh, Drake,” she whispered. “I could never regret you.”
Needing no further encouragement, he stripped out of his clothes as quickly as he could, then covered her once again with his body, this time skin to skin, and he groaned at the exquisite feel of it. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, feared it made him no better than her father, but the need to wrench one moment of beauty out of what could be his last hours was too strong to ignore.
“No matter what happens, I will never abandon you,” he vowed, meaning it. If they somehow did manage to make it out of here, he would never leave her to deal with the consequences. He’d take care of her, make certain she never ended up raising a child alone.
She kissed him deeply, and then no more words were needed as he rubbed himself in her wet heat, then slid inside her, glorying in her tight, silky sheath. Sweat broke out on his brow as he tried to go slow, tried to keep from falling over her in a frenzy of lust.
Her eyes were closed, her expression one of deep concentration as she took him in, shifting uncomfortably at first, but then opening up for him like a flower blossoming in the sun.
“Are you all right?” he whispered, having no idea how this would be for a virgin but having heard it was painful. “Is it too much?”
She shook her head, finally gazing up at him with those luminous blue eyes. “It feels good,” she said, sounding surprised. “It doesn’t hurt.”
Smiling tightly, he thrust gently a few times, giving her body a little time to become adjusted to his. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.
At last, she started to move with him, her arms and legs wrapping around him, giving the sign he needed to let go, to unleash the full measure of his desire. Perhaps it was the danger, the taste of mortality, or simply that this woman appealed to him as no other ever had, but he’d never felt such intense sensations, never been so hard pressed to not spend his seed immediately.
Angling his hips, he did his best to provide the friction she needed to find her own pleasure, desperately wanting her to climax as he did. She mewled beneath him, her tiny, sensual sounds intensifying everything. He hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed hearing that the woman was enjoying herself as well.
To his immense relief, she cried out and clenched around him, and that was all it took. He followed her over the edge, giving a low, guttural groan as he spilled himself within her,
For several moments he sprawled across her, gasping, but then he realized he must be crushing her and collapsed awkwardly on the small cot next to her, pulling her against his chest as his breathing returned to normal. His body still tingled from the amazing orgasm he’d just had, and his mind was awhirl with conflicting emotions.
What the hell was that?
He couldn’t remember ever having been so eager for a woman, so full of desire that his brain had completely turned off for a while and let his body have free rein.
Heather was... fantastic. He liked her on so many levels it frightened him. But she was also not of his class, not someone he could ever take as his wife.
But if she were of his class... what they’d just done would ensure that he had to marry her. If he were any sort of gentleman at all.
He groaned inwardly. If she had been a virgin, he’d just ruined her. And if she wasn’t... Well, there was no reason to think that she wasn’t. She’d been eager but awkward, obviously unschooled in the ways of lovemaking.
A shiver ran through him at the memory of how sweet and warm she’d been. Never had making love to a woman given him such a sense of... homecoming? For a moment there, he would have killed to spend the rest of his life with her.
“Are you cold?” she asked softly, her voice so rough he wondered if she was crying.
“No,” he murmured, hugging her tighter and trying to stop his brain from overanalyzing this too much. They were in a dire situation with no promise of tomorrow. Joining together for a little companionship and pleasure was perfectly natural. Who wanted to spend what might be the last night of their lives alone? “I was just remembering what it felt like to be inside you.”
She gave a nervous laugh but burrowed a little closer to him. “I thought it was wonderful. I never dreamed it could be like that.”
“Nor did I,” he murmured truthfully.
“I wish this moment could last forever,” she breathed, her warm breath stirring the hair on his chest. “I’m so afraid of what tomorrow might bring, but lying here with you... I feel utterly safe. Maybe for the first time in my life.”
Her words humbled and thrilled him. He didn’t think any woman had ever felt this way about him. He’d never been the sort of man who engendered strong feelings in the opposite sex. Desire, yes. But the women he slept with rarely lingered in his bed. He was too serious, too taciturn and committed to his work to be the good-time lover they were looking for.
Pressing his lips tenderly against her brow, he tried to put into words what he was feeling. “I meant it when I said I’d never abandon you, Heather. What we’ve found together... I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
She snuggled a little closer, her body fitting with his as though they were puzzle pieces. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she whispered. “Don’t say things you’ll regret later. Just hold me for a while. Right now, I just need you to keep tomorrow at bay for a little longer.”
It stung him a bit, that she didn’t believe him, but he supposed he couldn’t blame her, and he didn’t want to argue the point right now. So he just hugged her tighter, his mind drifting to all the things that these bastards might rob them of. And for the first time, he found himself hoping that his seed would take root. He wanted to be a father, he realized. Before, he’d always seen a family as a duty, an anchor, but now he could imagine a little boy with Heather’s eyes.
“Tell me a little more about yourself,” she said quietly, when the silence in the room became nearly crushing. “I feel as though I’ve told you nearly everything about myself, but I know very little about you.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “I rarely talk about myself. I suppose I assume most people don’t really want to know. And as I’ve told you before, I can’t abide small talk.”
She pressed her lips against his chest, and he could feel her smile. “I really want to know, Drake. I want to know everything about you.”
This sort of intimacy was far more difficult for him than sex could ever be. He’d been hiding so much of himself for so long, he wasn’t even sure where to begin.
“My father is the Marquess of Stonebridge,” he began slowly. “I have fond memories of my early childhood, but when I was seven, my mother died in childbirth. The child—a girl—didn’t make it either. My father didn’t take it well. I remember the roar of pain he gave when he heard... it sounded like a dying animal.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “He must have loved her very much.”
“I suppose he must have,” he agreed, though there had been plenty of times in the past when he’d doubted that his father was capable of loving anything. “But after she died, he abandoned the three of us... my older sister Amelia, Mortimer, and myself... at our country estate to be raised by an assortment of nannies and maids, and he returned to London. I’ve heard that he tried to drink his grief away, that he gambled excessively and took mistresses, anything to try and stop the pain.”
He paused, thinking of those dark lonely days. Amelia had tried to fill his mother’s shoes, but she’d just been a child of eleven herself. He’d always felt that Mortimer should have shown him some attention, but his older brother had probably been broken even then. His cruel streak had grown with no one there to keep it in check.
“It was years before my father returned or took any interest in us whatsoever,” he said at last. “But when he did, he immediately sent Amelia away to live with our aunt. He had no use for a girl, you see. Or perhaps she reminded him too much of Mother by then. All he seemed to care about was training Mortimer for the title.”
She ran her hand soothingly over his chest. “You must have been so lonely.”
He swallowed. “Yes. My only friend was my dog, Milo. The two of us roamed the estate like wild animals, having adventures and getting into trouble.” A stabbing pain hit his heart when he mentioned Milo. He hadn’t thought about that sweet boy in years. When the old dog had died, he truly had felt all alone.
“Are you close to your father or sister now?” she asked softly.
“I see Amelia quite often. She’s married to the younger son of a duke and has two young boys. But my father spends most of his time at Stonebridge Manor in Sussex so I rarely see him,” he admitted. “He doesn’t want to see me though. He thinks I’m an embarrassment for having chosen to work for a living. He’s in poor health, hardly ever leaves Stonebridge. I try to make it down there every six months or so, but he barely acknowledges me. All his hopes lie with Mortimer.”
The thought of what he had to do, the necessary crushing of all his father’s dreams, weighed heavily on him. But he could not let Mortimer take the marquessate. Not after what he’d done. Of course, that meant taking it on himself eventually, something he had no desire whatsoever to do.
“Your sister sounds nice,” she said softly, obviously looking for something positive in the tragic tale he’d told her.
“She is. You’d like her.” But would Amelia like Heather? Would she even consent to having a lady’s maid in her drawing room? He’d like to think so, but he really didn’t know.
Silence fell between them once again, and he realized that he’d probably never talked that much about himself in a single setting before. Surprisingly, he hadn’t minded. It had actually felt good to talk about his past with someone he cared about.
He hugged her one more time before giving a reluctant sigh. “I’d love to stay here with you in my arms all night. But I can’t very well keep you safe when I’m lying here naked. Though I doubt they’ll return before tomorrow, I need to be ready in case they do. I want to be able to protect you.”
She sighed as well, but then nodded and pushed herself to a sitting position so he could get up. He got to his feet and stared down at her, enchanted all over again by the sight of her, cheeks rosy from their lovemaking, her wild black hair tousled about her slim shoulders, her full breasts still bare.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her, wishing he was more of a poet, better with words because those seemed so completely inadequate for what he wanted to express to her. It wasn’t just her physical beauty that drew him, but her sweetness as well, the tenderness and passion she’d given him so selflessly.
She blushed, her cheeks getting even rosier, but she met his gaze, a myriad of emotions in her wide blue eyes. “You’re beautiful too.”
He grinned, leaning down to pick up the clothes he’d strewn across the floor in his haste to press his skin against hers. “Thank you. I suppose a man needs to hear that too, every once in a while.”
Laughing softly, she pulled the scratchy wool blanket up over her nakedness. He suddenly wished he could see her in his own bed, surrounded by satin sheets. She deserved so much more than these rough accommodations.
After he’d finished dressing, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss upon her cherry-red lips. “Why don’t you try and sleep now, darling? I’ll keep watch.”
She bit her lip, then nodded. “I don’t know if I can sleep after that, but I’ll try.”
“I’d like you to at least put your chemise back on,” he said softly. “Not that I don’t enjoy the thought of you laying there naked, but I just don’t want to worry about that in case they burst in on us again.”
“Oh, of course.” She scrambled up and pulled her chemise over her head in one swift motion, making him groan inwardly even though he knew she had to do it.
She fussed around for a moment, neatly folding her clothes and putting them within easy reach in case she did have to get dressed quickly, then climbed back under the lone blanket.
“Thank you for being so good to me tonight,” she whispered. “I don’t know how I could have made it through this night without you.”
He swallowed past a lump of emotion he couldn’t even name. “You’re very welcome.”
* * *
HEATHER SNUGGLED DEEPER into the cot, trying to get as comfortable as possible as her gaze tracked Drake, still stunned by the earth-shattering lovemaking they’d shared. She watched as he sat down and began picking at the food Oscar had left, which looked just as tempting as the first tray had been. It surprised her a little bit that Jacob had bothered to feed them at all, and she figured someone else, Oscar apparently, must have organized the food.
The single night she’d shared with Jacob had been nothing like what had just happened between her and Drake. There had been no tenderness between her and Jacob, and he certainly hadn’t made certain she was ready, that she enjoyed it. While Drake... She shivered, still lost in the memories of the moments they’d spent in each other’s arms.
This must have been what Allison and Jocelyn had found with their husbands. This sense of complete rightness and belonging.
A sudden wash of tears filled her eyes at the thought that she had found this too late. That even if Drake felt the same way and wanted to see her again, they might not ever have that opportunity. She blinked them away, determined not to give into the panic that was beckoning in the back of her mind, wanting to drag her down into complete terror and despair.
No. She would not let the unknown future interfere with what had been the best night of her life so far. It was pointless, in any event. As she’d told Drake earlier, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to change things. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. All she could do was pray that Drake was clever enough to get them out of this.
With a sigh, she curled onto her side, closing her eyes, safe in the knowledge that her own personal policeman was watching over her.
* * *
DRAKE SPENT THE NEXT hour staring sightlessly at the door, all of his senses attuned not to the untenable position in which he found himself but to the lovely woman who slept peacefully on the other side of the room. Occasionally, she’d make a soft sound, or there would be a rustle of the bedclothes, and it was all he could do to keep from crossing to her side and sliding into that bed next to her.
The lovemaking they’d shared earlier had ignited a passion within him that demanded to be satiated. She’d tasted so sweet and had melted at his touch so responsively. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had to walk away from her, to go back to guarding her against those bastards who’d taken them instead of holding her throughout the night.
Besides, he was letting his attraction to her completely derail him from the issue at hand. His concern for her had already made him weak, and their leader had sensed that and meant to use her against him. He had no idea if they’d actually hurt her come the morning, but he didn’t know the answers to the questions they’d asked, and he was terrified to find out just how far those bastards meant to take this. They’d already taken lives, so there was no reason to think they wouldn’t do so again if they felt threatened enough.
Somehow, he had to protect Heather and get back to his own life so he could keep an eye on Mortimer and keep trying to bring him to justice. God knew what the perverted devil was doing at this very moment. He’d never forgive himself if someone else died at his brother’s hands.
He’d tear that door off its hinges if he could in order to get out of here.
He frowned, his gaze sharpening on the hinges on the great oak doorway.
They appeared to be hung from this side.
It can’t possibly be that easy.
Excitement surging through him, he picked up the lantern and strode over to the door, holding the light up to the ancient, rusty hinges, which seemed as though they could be loosened. This door had probably been here for hundreds of years. It had definitely been built in a different era, an assembly of thick oak planks held together by iron bands. Could he simply take the door off the hinges? It was locked on the other side, but he ought to be able to pull it this way despite the lock if he could get it off the hinges.
Casting about the room, his gaze fell on the butter knife on the tray. Picking it up, he went back to the door and slowly went to work turning the first bolt, straining with all his might until it turned half a rotation. Elated, he kept working at it, and eventually, it was hanging on by the barest thread.
Before taking it out, he frowned. He was pretty sure it was the dead of the night, and he really didn’t think whoever had taken them had left anyone watching over them, given the solidness of the door. Still, there could very well be a dozen men out there. Was it worth risking it?
This might be the only chance they had.
Mind made up, he went back to Heather’s side and sat down on the cot by her hip.
“Heather,” he said softly, not wanting to jar her awake.
When she slept on, he placed his hand on her slim shoulder and shook her gently. “Heather. Wake up.”
Despite his efforts not to scare her, she shot straight up, looking around wildly. “What is it? What’s happening?”
“It’s all right,” he soothed. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but I think I might have found a way out of here, and I need you to be awake in case it works so we can make a run for it.”
“A way out?” She blinked, putting a hand to her chest as she met his gaze, obviously still frightened out of her mind and half asleep.
He nodded and pointed to the door. “I think I can take the door off its hinges.”
She frowned. “What if there is someone on the other side?”
He shrugged. “If there is, I think I can take him. But it’s the middle of the night, and I believe there will only be one guard, if any.”
“But won’t it make a lot of noise? He’ll be ready for you even if you get it off.” She looked doubtful, to say the least, and it hurt him even though he knew she had absolutely no reason to trust him.
He pinned her with a look. “I’ve got to try. Whatever their intentions for us are, they aren’t good. Would you rather wait around and see what they plan to do with us or take a chance?”
She bit her lip. “I’d rather take the chance.”
With a grin, he pushed off the cot and went back to the door. “I don’t think there’s anyone out there,” he assured her as he worked. “I’ve been sitting here for hours, and I haven’t heard a peep from the other side of this door. Surely, if there was someone there, they’d cough or move around or something.”
Still looking unconvinced, she got up and started to struggle back into her clothes. He paused for just a second, admiring a slim leg as she pulled back on her stockings, then shook himself and kept working on the hinges. He started with the bottom one, which was just as stubborn as the other one, but eventually broke free. Though somewhat surprised that their captors hadn’t thought he might try this, it wasn’t completely illogical either. There was undoubtedly a lock on the other side of the door, and his captors had thought that, and the door’s incredible thickness, would suffice. Hell, they probably hadn’t even looked to see which side it was hinged on. He didn’t think this room had been used as a cell before, though it had definitely been used as something.
This whole kidnapping scheme seemed to have been put together in the spur of the moment, and whoever had orchestrated it likely hadn’t really thought things through.
The top one was much harder, as all the weight of the door was now pulling down on the hinge. As he worked, he was aware of her getting dressed and putting her shoes back on, then slipping behind the screen in the corner, obviously so desperate for relief that she didn’t care if he heard her. Good. He didn’t need her to be miserable as they made their escape.
“Come here,” he said softly, beckoning her over after she reemerged.
She moved to his side, face flaming, and he explained what he was trying to do softly, just in case there was someone out there. “I’m going to hold the weight of the door. Can you finish unscrewing this?”
“I’ll try,” she murmured. As she strained to loosen it, she stood on her tiptoes and stuck her tongue out slightly in concentration, something he found absolutely adorable, even though so much adrenaline was flowing through him he felt ready to pop out of his skin.
Finally, the hinge slipped off, and she had the presence of mind to catch it before it hit the floor. A look of victory crossed her lovely face, and he bent forward to press a passionate kiss upon her lips. “You’re amazing,” he assured her, easing away from the door. “No matter what happens, I want you to know how proud I am of you. And also that making love to you was perhaps the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Her face flushed with obvious pleasure, and he realized she’d had far too few compliments in her life. If they made it out of here alive, he intended to rectify that.
The lock on the other side held the door mostly shut, but it had opened just a crack. Holding his finger to his lips, he pressed his eye to the opening, finding that whatever lay beyond was pitch black.
“There’s no guard,” he whispered, elated. “Help me pull this open.”
The lock kept it from opening very far, but they were able to pull it toward them far enough to slip through. Their cell cast just enough light behind them so that they could see a shadowy staircase not too far in front of them.
He took a deep breath, his heartbeat accelerating, and it suddenly became very clear to him that it wasn’t just his life he was risking but Heather’s as well. For a moment, doubts assailed him, but then he squared his shoulders, knowing that no matter what happened, it was better than just sitting here waiting to die. At least if they left the cellar they had a chance, and an hour ago, he’d been certain their luck had run out.
“What if there are people upstairs?” Heather asked, her voice trembling as she pressed behind him.
“Just stay behind me,” he instructed, reaching back to squeeze her hand. “I’ll keep you safe.”